


Not This Time

by blueemissary (robinsword)



Category: Thor (Movies), Wonder Woman (2017), Wonder Woman - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Loki & Thor Friendship (Marvel), POV Brunnhilde | Valkyrie (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 02:17:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16567703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinsword/pseuds/blueemissary
Summary: Prompt:"Are you drunk?"---Two legends meet in a bar. One of them has some problems to work out before it can go any further than that but the other is willing to wait.---Before she even knows it, her legs have lifted her from her stool - good thing she’s Asgardian or she may have fallen after so much mead - and she begins to shift across the bar to where the newcomer now sits, intending to start some smooth conversation.But she doesn’t make it. Halfway across her resolve and fearlessness dies. The presentness slips away a little. With slightly hunched shoulders, she settles down on another stool and signals the bartender. Another drink. That’s what she needs.A thick coat of condensation drips down the bottle, freezing her hand as it wraps around it. It’s numbing, which is exactly what she wants right now.She’s just pulled the lid off - no need for bottle openers when you’re strong enough to rip a door of its hinges if you so wanted to - when there’s a thunk as another bottle is placed down next to it. She puts her's down without taking a sip and turns to her left.Besides her sits the goddess.





	Not This Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flightofwonder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightofwonder/gifts).



> I think this might be the first fic solely for this ship posted on this site, so I guess if you were looking for content on them this is your only option! :) Enjoy.
> 
>  **possible trigger warnings:** mentions of alcohol dependency, anxiety/PTSD, minor injury, violence and death (in battle). (I've tried to make sure it's not too graphic though.)

Two bottles in and Valkyrie can feel something that is not quite relaxation, but more a lack of regret for things that have been, things that she will do. Four bottles in and the memories that occupy her mind are pushed to the back, along with the knowledge of the tasks she must face tomorrow, all replaced only with the present and the now.

Eight bottles in, a goddess walks into the bar.

Before she even knows it, her legs have lifted her from her stool - good thing she’s Asgardian or she may have fallen after so much mead - and she begins to shift across the bar to where the newcomer now sits, intending to start some smooth conversation.

But she doesn’t make it. Halfway across her resolve and fearlessness dies. The presentness slips away a little. With slightly hunched shoulders, she settles down on another stool and signals the bartender. Another drink. That’s what she needs.

A thick coat of condensation drips down the bottle, freezing her hand as it wraps around it. It’s numbing, which is exactly what she wants right now.

She’s just pulled the lid off - no need for bottle openers when you’re strong enough to rip a door of its hinges if you so wanted to - when there’s a thunk as another bottle is placed down next to it. She puts it down without taking a sip and turns to her left.

Besides her sits the goddess. Or Val assumes she’s a goddess. There’s no way she’s a mortal, she thinks. It’s her eyes that do it. Oh sure, every bit of her is god-like; from the toned muscle in her legs to the dark hair falling over the peculiar, gleaming circlet on her brow. But her eyes carry knowledge and memories in them from years so far back that no mortal could possibly possess them and still be alive.

“You’re a warrior,” are the first words out of the woman’s mouth. There’s a soft curiosity in the smile she wears, intrigued but not malicious or covering any ulterior motives. “I didn’t expect to see many here.”

Val laughs into the rim of her bottle, finally taking a sip before she answers. “This must be your first time here then.” Ever since the Asgardians landed in Midgard, this bar has become one of the most popular meeting places for those who settled nearby.

“I’m waiting to meet some friends,” is the goddess’ reply and she takes gulp of her own drink, drinking almost double what Val has left of her bottle in one go. It’s almost like a challenge. Val raises one eyebrow at her, which she seems to ignore in favour of continuing. “And you?”

“My friends are over there.” Swinging one arm around a little heavily, Val points to where Thor and Loki sit at a table by the door. “Well, I _say_ friends. Right now they’re more of an annoyance.” The night had started off with Thor proposing that they all go down to the bar to unwind. Bruce had declined as usual, and Heimdall apparently took it as a opportunity to get some time to himself after so many weeks of keeping Asgard running as they settled. That left Thor and Loki. Val had no idea why Thor insisted on dragging Loki along but either way it had taken less than an hour for them to start bickering and Val had left them to it.

“Well maybe I can keep you company until they stop.”

“If they stop…”

The woman smirks, looking over to the brothers with amusement. Then she tilts her bottle, clinking it against Val’s own. “My name is Diana.”

Pretty, Val thinks.

“You can call me Valkyrie. Or Val. That’s what everyone else calls me nowadays, anyway.”

“You have another name?”

Valkyrie tenses, aware of how close to the past she’s getting, how the fuzz that has been pushing back the memories clears with that simple question. But Diana’s expression is earnest and Val takes a deep breath to relax.

“I did. But it’s a conversation for another time.”

It seems Diana holds her gaze for hours before she nods. “Very well. It’s good to have your company tonight, Val.”

They don’t talk for a short while after that, both finishing their drinks in silence. It’s surprisingly pleasant. Val hasn’t experienced a comfortable silence like this since… well, much too long ago for her to try - or even want - to think back to.

Another drink is ordered. Once again with a matching bottle to go with it. Val lets Diana choose this time. It’s not her usual style and the burn is far too weak. But it feels only polite to drink it all.

At one point Val finds herself watching the movement of Diana’s drink. Lifted off from the wood of the bar-top, held in strong hands at the end of a toned warrior’s arms…

“Hey,” Val finds herself speaking up suddenly. This is instantly followed by a slight internal panic when Diana gives her full attention, because Val has no idea what she was going to say. But the seconds tick on and Val’s eyes drift for a moment back to Diana’s arms before she settles back on her curious, honest eyes. “Do you… want to have an arm wrestle?”

This gets her a laugh. It’s bright and genuine and fills Val with the sensation of… _something_ that she hasn’t felt in quite a long time. Maybe she thinks Val is joking. Even if she is, Val can’t help but brighten with her. There’s a grin on her face and she rests her elbow on the wooden surface, one eyebrow raised. A challenge. And she has a feeling Diana will accept.

Indeed she only hesitates a little and it’s with a smile. Their hands meet in a loose grip and their faces inch closer as each leans into the bar-top. “You know,” Diana bites her bottom lip to keep her face serious. It doesn’t work. “I’ve not been offered an arm wrestle in many years. But I have never been beaten. Are you sure you’re up to this?”

“No,” Val admits, because yes she’s strong but she was already eight drinks in when Diana arrived and her judgement is a little skewed. And it’s not just the alcohol. Val’s eyes dart for a second to Diana’s lips, fascinated with the way they form her words so perfectly. But she tears them away, forcing herself to look her in the eye. “But I’m drunk. And I think you’re a match for me…”

Diana blinks momentarily, perhaps a little thrown off by Val’s response. It isn’t surprising. Val hardly understands what she’s saying herself at this point. But she carries on anyway because what the hell, she’s already on a roll.

“And I think the loser should buy the next round of drinks.”

Diana tilts her head in sympathy, the amusement traced with hint of… concern?

“I think you’ve had enough.”

She’s right. She’s smart. Val knows this. So she nods.

“Then I guess…” she says, leaning in a little closer, “You’ll have to buy me it when we come back here.”

The competitiveness returns, and Diana’s grip tightens on her hand. “Alright then.”

…

Across the room, Loki returns from where he had left the table to get another drink, rejoining Thor, who has been watching the spectacle of Diana and Val’s arm wrestling match since just after it began.

“What are they doing?” Loki asks, settling down with his feet propped up on the table casually as he takes a sip of his drink. A swipe of Thor’s hand reminds him of his manners and he crosses his legs gracefully instead.

“I don’t know,” Thor admits, “But they’ve been holding hands and staring at each other for almost twenty minutes now.”

…

“This is going well.”

Huffing, Val twists around to deflect another spear, dispatching it’s wielder efficiently in a single strike. She looks at Diana. “I know you’re saying that sarcastically but I honestly believe it could be a lot --”

“Get down!”

Val drops to the ground on Diana’s instruction. As it turns out there’s no need; Diana lunges in front of her, arms crossed, and deflects the shot with her bracelets before it even has the chance to go over her head. Val offers a smile, grateful for the warning nonetheless, and pushes herself back to her feet with one hand in a fluid motion.

It’s been months since they first met. They never did arrange a meet up for that second drink but rather crossed paths again accidentally. It was while both were looking into this new threat; an army (of course it was another fucking army), led by the latest and greatest in generic, power-hungry dictators from another world (whose name Val doesn’t  care to ask for). All she knows is that Diana has been investigating this a lot longer than she has. And she had asked for Val’s help in the inevitable battle.

So that’s what she’s going to focus on. Helping Diana.

But right now it seems to be going the other way around, with Diana covering for more and more of Valkyrie’s mistakes as the fight goes on. An enemy comes in on her exposed left side, only to be met with the edge of Diana’s shield and tossed aside. Another goes for her legs but a shining golden whip latches onto the sword and pulls it from the enemy’s grasp.

At first Val is grateful to have someone watching her back. It’s been so long since she’s been able to let go of her newer habits and so naturally rely on someone like this in the thick of battle. Oh, sure, she’d fought with the ‘Revengers’ that one time, but even then she’d primarily taken care of herself, working twice as hard to cover all her own weaknesses. Like this, it is easier to fight. Less tiring.

It soon puts her on edge. _This is a fight_. It shouldn’t feel easy. She shouldn’t be letting anything slip through the cracks, not even when she knows that Diana will be there to fill them in for her.

Memories begin cropping up. Which is really the last thing she needs in the middle of a lethal battle. But they do. Of her fellow Valkyrie defending her.

Dying for her.

Suddenly, as she turns again, she sees Diana thrown through the air and for a moment the world seems to freeze in time.

Then it reverses, going back to the fateful day when she had lost the one person she loved more than anyone. Diana’s dark hair, streaming out in front of her face, pales to a blonde. Her face changes, her now-blue eyes locking with Brunnhilde’s as she reaches out for her, falling through the air, down into the chasm where many more of their shield-sisters lie alongside their steeds, one of Death’s blades pierced crudely through her heart -

A harsh smack to the side almost knocks Val off her feet as Diana’s attacker turns their attention to her. With a surge of anger and a battlecry, Val lunges at him with her dragonfang, letting them feel its bite, exchanging blows until she finally drives it through their chest. The enemy drops to the ground dead and the anger drains out of her, leaving her exhausted. A little to her left, she sees Diana pull herself to her feet, unharmed. She’s even smiling as she takes out the next soldier to come at her.

Val closes her eyes for just a moment, barely more than a few seconds, breathing hard. Behind the darkness of her eyelids she can still see the pit of Valkyrie corpses, the fear and sorrow in her lover’s face as she falls, dead before she hits the ground. But her hair isn’t  streaming blonde in her mind's eyes. It’s -

A swish to her left announces Diana’s arrival at her side, cleaving apart an enemy that had been about to stab Valkyrie in the back. Val opens her eyes, turning to see Diana smirking with victory. That was the last one, it seems. The battle is won.

“Were you that worried about me?” Diana teases as she looks up from the corpse of Valkyrie’s own slay, the one that had thrown Diana through the air and Val had killed in vengeance. The smile drops from her face when her eyes meet Val’s own. “Oh… you were.”

Val wonders if she’s so easy to read or if, in their short time spent together, Diana has already gotten to know her that well. Probably the former, she thinks, clenching her fists to stop the slight tremor in them. She can’t speak. Instead she presses her lips firmly together, trying to hold on to the last of her control. But she still nods, still answers her, even if non-verbally.

Diana gently puts a hand on her shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”

The contact seems to strengthen her a bit, reassures her that Diana is here. It’s not the same.

She’s not the same.

“Just… a bad memory,” her voice is barely above a whisper but she gets it out.

Diana nods, looking down in thought. But just as she looks about to say something, her eyes widen. “You’re wounded.”

Val raises her eyebrows at the dark stain in her armour growing from her right side. So she is. When did that happen? Probably during the fight with the last guy. That one really was a blur.

“Oh,” is her dispassionate response.

Diana’s eyebrows draw together in concern. “How do you not feel this?” Her palm presses against the wound, becoming stained with Val’s blood as she stems the flow.

Val has an answer; her focus had been elsewhere. On the past. On Diana. On vengeance.

“I’m drunk,” she goes for, shrugging. It’s not really a lie. There hadn’t been much time between teaming up with Diana and being thrown into action and Val had taken the liberty of downing a few bottles as she went along with her day. No doubt it’s still in her system. Perhaps it was the cause of some of her sloppiness (although it’s never been a problem on Sakaar).

Diana frowns, “In battle?”

She smiles tightly. “I’m always drunk. Numbs the pain.” Closing her eyes again, seeing that day again, she wishes that it were true. That it were so easy to be rid of pain like this. Some days it is. But most days…

“I see,” Diana says, carefully. Val wonders, as she leans heavily on Diana and lets herself be lead away for healing, if Diana does see.

…

“Aaand here’s your drink.”

Val holds out Diana’s glass as she settles back onto the loveseat, propping her feet up on a nearby stool. This seems to amuse Diana, if her small smile (that hasn’t left her face since they arrived on the ship) growing into a full on grin is anything to go by. She follows suit, stretching out her own legs to join Val’s. The limited space on the stool forces them to sit close together, but Val doesn’t mind. At all, really.

The past year of getting to know Diana has led to some… revelations.

Despite the casualness of their original meeting, Val had at first assumed that their relationship would remain mostly professional. That they’d fight battles, exchange a few quips and pleasantries maybe (because Val doesn’t really do strict professional anymore and Diana seems like she never has). Then they’d simply part ways until the next fight arose. Indeed, there had been many more battles. But their encounters didn’t stop there. At first it had just been the bar. Evenings of companionable drinking there played out in a similar fashion to their previous encounters and led to a closer friendship that ended in Diana inviting Val to come and drink somewhere a little classier.

A gala.

Up until tonight Val hadn’t been aware that Midgardians really had such a thing. But one of Diana’s friends had apparently seen fit to host one and Diana had seen fit to invite Val.

Yes, of all the people looking to spend a night arm-in-arm with ‘Wonder Woman’ (as Val had learned her more public name was), Diana had chosen Val.

And this, only a few short weeks ago, is where the revelations began. Revelations that perhaps their not-really-professional relationship was growing into… something more.

The gala was a lavish affair and in the end Val had been forced to take some suggestion from both Banner and Loki (the latter more helpful than the former in the topics of style and dresses, but with far less knowledge on Midgard and its affairs) on what would be appropriate to wear. It all led up to her arriving arm-in-arm with Diana… dressed in identical dresses.

In that moment, she vowed never to listen to Loki again.

Fortunately, Diana didn’t seem to mind, which was a relief because, while Val _certainly_ didn’t, she’d also been told (by Loki of course) that some people take offense to it.

“I thought I was supposed to be buying _you_ the drink this time?” Diana teases as she takes a sip of the wine.

“I thought you were insistent that you won the last match?”

Diana leans into her, bright eyes coming a little closer. “Maybe this has nothing to do with that and I just want to treat you anyway?”

Val snorts. Already more than tipsy from the gala’s free ‘champagne’ (mixed with a little spirit from the flask hidden in the folds of her dress), Val finds herself following Diana’s lead and leaning into her.

“Is that why you came back with me tonight?”

Diana shrugs. “Honestly... I was also curious to see where you live.”  Her eyes flick around the room, although they return to Val soon enough. “It’s a nice ship.”

“Thanks, we stole it.” That gets a laugh, low and fond and more beautiful than any Val knows of.

Diana’s hand slips into hers so that their fingers interlock. The curls that have come loose out of their once tightly pinned up style frame her face, bringing attention to brown eyes that glitter in the dim light of the lamp behind Val as she holds her gaze.

It’s a perfect moment. _The_ perfect moment.

And yet… Val hesitates.

The moment is familiar. Too familiar.

Just like that, whatever emotional high she’s been riding all night drops through to the ground and she lets go of Diana’s hand, leaning back to down half of her own drink. As the taste of alcohol spreads over her tongue, all the old feelings that it usually drives away - all the feelings that Diana had been driving away tonight - bubble up again.

Regret. Betrayal. Guilt.

So much guilt and it only gets worse every time she closes her eyes and sees not _her_ lying besides her in bed every morning when she wakes up _,_ but Diana.

Diana - so in tune, so able to read her - frowns. “Val?”

“Sorry.” Val leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees and her head in one hand, the other dangling the now empty glass between her legs. “Sorry,” she repeats. “I can’t --” _Do this._

There’s a beat of silence. When Diana speaks, Val expects her to be angry. They’d been so, _so_ close and Val had ruined the moment.

But instead, her voice is soft. “When we first met…” Val looks at her from the corner of her eye, curiosity bubbling up through her misery. Diana continues, “At the bar. I noticed you coming to me, before I came to you. You were interested… but you stopped.”

Val can hear the ‘why?’ in Diana’s words. With a heavy sigh, she steels herself to explain.

“When I was a Valkyrie… before I became _The_ Valkyrie, I fought the goddess of death. We…” Her chest tightness painfully. “We didn’t win. The only reason I survived is because she --” Voice breaking, she cuts herself off to clap a hand over her mouth and stifle the oncoming sob. Immediately, Diana’s hand is a warm, comforting presence on her back. She comforts Val, patient and waiting until the wracks of grief subside and she’s able to continue. “We never fooled ourselves into thinking we’d ever settle down to live a quiet life together or anything but… we had plans. I might… I think I might have married her if she hadn’t...” A deep breath. “That’s why… I’m not ready to…”

“I understand.”

Val uses her wrist to wipe her nose as she sniffs. “Do you?” She looks at Diana.

There’s a pause and for a minute Val thinks she’s going to backtrack. But Diana just nods. “Years ago I met a man. His name was Steve…”

They spend the rest of the night just talking. Recounting stories of fallen friends. Fallen lovers. And it’s decided, as they part ways to go to bed, that they’ll wait as friends.

For now.

...

It’s five-thirty am and Val is rushing through the streets. The sky is still dark and overcast with winter clouds. The pavement shines with patches of ice left from last night’s rainfall creating the puddles that had frozen over. Under the light of a flickering lamp post she stops to check the address that she has written down in Diana’s flowing, scripted handwriting on a piece of paper. Satisfied that she’s on the right track, she takes a left.

It’s several streets later that she arrives, a little breathless, at her destination. The fist she raises trembles a little as she raises it to rap three times, the thud sounding heavy as she puts more force than intended behind it.

Diana is fully dressed and awake when she opens the door. As expected. It’s been many more months since their tearful heart-to-heart and Val has learned many more things about Diana. That she’s an early riser, for one.

“Val?”

“Can I come in?”

The door opens wider upon request and Val slips past her into her home. While Diana closes the door, Val strikes forward to the living room, not looking back until she’s planted herself in the centre and is ready to face what she came here to do.

In the many months since the gala there have been many revelations. Even more so than the last time period.

She’d realised that she was tired of feeling guilty. Of being alone. And while she can’t necessarily always control the former, she finds that the latter is worth trying to resolve. Especially since Diana - who has clearly been waiting as patiently as she can to come around - is worth it.

“So…” Diana prompts, standing opposite her, expectant look on her face.

Many ways to begin cross through Val’s mind.

_‘I’ve been thinking...’_

_‘You know that heart-to-heart we had in the spring…?’_

_‘Sorry I didn’t call…’_

“I love you,” she blurts out and then resists the urge to wince at her own abruptness.

Diana tilts her head. “Are you drunk?”

It hurts, just a little, but Val can’t say she blames her.

She pushes on, stepping closer to Diana with an earnest expression. It pleases her to see Diana respond in kind, coming forward to meet her in the middle. Their hands interlock and Val tries to keep herself calm but she can feel her heart running at a million miles a second.

She bites her lip, before leaning in close. “Not this time.”

That’s all Diana needs before she crosses the gap and holds her in a sweet, long awaited kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also on [tumblr ](https://asgardianbruce.tumblr.com/)


End file.
